


Survival

by Artusende



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Forced Orgasm, Gender-neutral human, Kidnapping, Light Bondage, Other, Praise Kink (minor), Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 14:11:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18345287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artusende/pseuds/Artusende
Summary: Soundwave resorts to drastic measures during an interrogation.{{ Repost, with minor edits }}





	Survival

Soundwave really wasn’t used to humans in his interrogation room. He had a bit of an odd setup in order to properly restrain them: he bound the human to a stolen Earth lawn chair, which sat, comically small, in the mech-sized restraining chair. If he wasn’t trying to gather the location of his captured symbiote, he would have been amused at the sight.

He took a moment to scrutinize the Autobot ally. The human had stopped struggling and was staring at him with the same intensity that he had behind his visor.

Soundwave towered over them, and he appreciated how much the little fleshling had to look up to meet his optics. After all, beneath his stoic façade, he was angry. The Autobots had kidnapped Ravage with the help of _this_ human; now, his symbiote was being held captive somewhere the Decepticons couldn’t locate.

Ravage was discovered on what should have been a routine intelligence mission. Even though Soundwave grabbed Skywarp raced to Ravage’s coordinates the moment he received her distress signal, it was too late: the Autobots dragged Ravage, paralyzed, underground, as Wheeljack muted her homing beacon and radio comms.

Soundwave coldly regretted his planning of the mission and felt responsible for Ravage’s capture, even if he knew that there was nothing he could do. He should have sent Laserbeak, who would have had an easier time getting away. Ravage was landbound: even with the panther-cassette’s speed and strength, nothing could beat the maneuverability of flight. If only he had sent Laserbeak over Ravage, this wouldn’t have happened.

  _If only, if only,_ thought Soundwave tiredly. Nothing got done while dreaming about the past, he supposed, and now all that was left was to interrogate the human and exact some petty vengeance for Ravage.

Even now, over the distance from the Decepticon base to wherever Ravage was being held, he could feel his telepathic connection with his symbiote. Ravage was scared, he could tell that much: unusual for a mech normally hostile and quick to anger. It was only a certain amount of time, Soundwave was certain, before Ravage was offlined and melted down into thumb tacks, once the Autobots had extracted any information from her.

He feared for the moment when he’d feel the thrum of Ravage’s spark, normally ever-present over their bond, suddenly stop.

But now was not the time for anxiety and regret. Soundwave focused his attention to the issue at hand and, after listening to the fleshling’s breathing for a moment – they were trying valiantly to mask their hyperventilating – he began. “Human: is here because of intimate knowledge of Autobot special weapons and location of Ravage. Decepticons: require this information.”

The human remained quiet, showing no reaction.

 “Human: will relinquish this information. It has already been determined that the information will be in Decepticon hands by the end of this interrogation. It is your choice whether this information will be freely given or taken by force.” Soundwave paused for a second to let his words sink in, then continued. “What was your role in capturing Ravage?”

“I designed and fired the electrobolt,” said the human. They tried to make their voice deeper and more confident, but the effect was lost in the wide space between the human and Soundwave. “You know this.”

Soundwave reached out with the string of a telepathic bond and surreptitiously felt for the human’s mind. Yes, Soundwave did know this; he had been trying to get to Ravage when he realised what was happening, but Optimus Prime and Trailbreaker blocked his route to Ravage with heavy blaster fire. He was there as the human fired a second bolt that pierced Ravage’s backstrut, the core of her motor circuits. He felt terror and confusion flood their link, so powerful it almost made him sick, as Ravage’s body stopped responding and collapsed stiffly to the ground like a mannequin, limbs twitching. He watched through streaks of lasers and the window of a forcefield as Wheeljack dragged his symbiote by the hindlimbs into the Ark. It was then that Skywarp realised the hopelessness of the situation and snagged the first bargaining chip he saw – the human – and teleported the three of them back to headquarters.

Indeed, Soundwave knew the answer to this question, but the redundancy served a purpose. Simple, factual inquiries like these would serve as a control for later so that he knew what it felt like when the human lied. Soundwave wasn’t used to how the human mind worked, so he had to learn from scratch how to navigate the organic, chaotic tangle of neurons and thoughts that made up a brain. This chaos made it difficult to search for what he wanted, deeply annoying him; but he supposed there was a silver lining. The disorganisation of the human brain made it much, much harder for the human to mask emotions or incriminating thoughts.

“How did you come to work with the Autobots?” he intoned, changing the subject.

The human looked at him for a moment. He could feel shades of confusion shadowing beneath the waves of anxiety in their mind. The idea was clear: _why is he asking this?_ “I offered them my services.”

“Define: ‘services.’”

“Expertise on special weapons technology,” supplied the human unhelpfully.

“Define: ‘special weapons.’”

“…New weapons, kinds never used before in warfare. High-tech weapons.”

“Electrobolt projectile: classified as ‘special weapons.’”

The human paled as they realised they had cornered themself. He felt fear rise up in their mind, sharp and primal, and he took a moment to enjoy it as he considered his next words.

“Human: has _intimate knowledge_ of Autobot ‘special weapons.’ Human: spearheaded the operation to capture Ravage.” He tilted his head slightly, posing his next statement as a question. “Human: has knowledge of where Ravage is located.”

“I don’t know the mission plans down to the details. All I know is Ravage was moved to some secret bunker after Wheeljack dragged it underground. I didn’t ‘spearhead’ the operation."

There. That was it. A little blip in the colour of the human’s anxiety changed from the marrow-deep terror of predation to the more refined fear of being caught.

“Lies.” Soundwave finally moved; he stepped forward and splayed his servos over the table between them, bending forward slightly. He saw the human glance down at the table before meeting the telepath’s optics again. Fine-tuning his nascent link, he started to hear echoes of the human’s thoughts: _God, his hands – big – colossal motherfucker –_

“Where is Ravage located?” he asked. The human swallowed but remained silent, not even trying to formulate a lie.

Soundwave wordlessly stalked around the table to the human’s side and pressed his little finger ever so gently to the human’s forearm. He didn’t have the precision to rip fingernails or fillet skin with his size, but there was still a lot he could do.

“Answer,” he prompted. The human didn’t even look at him, staring forward. He could feel how hot the human’s skin was getting and the tension just beneath, tight as drawn rope.

After a moment of silence as he let the human’s terror grow exponentially, he slammed his finger down on their forearm sharply. Their radius shattered instantly like dropped china, and the human yelped in surprise and pain, the sudden noise echoing off the walls. Soundwave couldn’t feel the pain itself through their mental link, but he knew the extent of it when the fleshling’s mindscape blanked out and fizzled like static before fading to a throbbing red.

Soundwave removed his finger and let the human gasp in the chair for a moment before kneeling down to eye level with the human. “Vocal cords: still functional."

The human had no response. Their eyes began to water as they turned their head to meet Soundwave’s optics. He felt terror spike once more in them, raw as their pain, as they stared into his visor. Through the human’s pain-clouded perception, he realised they could see their dishevelled state in the reflection of his visor: red-rimmed teary eyes, flushed face, and short black hair askew.

The telepath placed the same finger he used to break the human’s arm on their thigh. “Soundwave: can cripple you with one finger. Soundwave: can ensure you will leave here requiring amputation. It is your choice,” he said, the almost-melodic notes of his synthesized vocaliser clashing with the dark images of his words.

 Still nothing. The human grit their jaw and breathed heavily in anticipation, staring obstinately into his visor as they awaited the next broken bone. Soundwave couldn’t tell if the human was searching for his optics behind his opaque visor or staring down their own reflection.

“As you wish.” Soundwave broke their femur with one quick push of a single finger, and not even the strongest bone in the human body could withstand the force of the huge mech. It bent, then splintered under the force Soundwave applied: not a clean break by any means, but the effect was the same. The human screamed, the piercing cry enough to make Soundwave turn down the sensitivity on his audial receptors on reflex. Out of curiosity, he performed a quick tonal analysis on the drawn-out wail, and the human had managed to hit an almost perfect C#.

“Stop – please –” sobbed the human like a kicked puppy. They were crying fully now, any semblance of that tough front they were putting up completely gone. “I’m sorry! I don’t _know!”_

“Apology: both irrelevant and false. Where is Ravage?”

The human gasped shakily as their broken leg spasmed against the metal restraints, and sweat beaded on their neck despite the coldness of the room and their overall pallor. He heard a faint _crick_ like thawing ice; looking down, he realised the human was gripping the arms of the chair so hard they were breaking their own nails.

 Soundwave leaned back and analysed the human’s injuries. Bruises were already forming with remarkable speed; there was a bright red circle where Soundwave’s finger was, ringed with irregular blotches of purple and yellow. Clicking on his x-ray scanner, he looked over the human’s arm. The radius was completely shattered as he had hoped, but the ulna also had a few fractures in it: a nice little bonus. He moved to the human’s femur and saw that it was only partially broken. He hadn’t used as much force as he could have, and it cracked and split like a young green twig instead of shattering. Maybe there was actually a chance the human would leave here with the ability to walk – with a few metal plates and screws, of course.

The telepath returned his focus to the fleshling’s face. He’d noticed during his time on Earth that humans were very expressive, especially with their facial features, and this particular human was no different. Raw pain was etched into every bit of their face, from their drawn-together brows to their grit teeth.

Soundwave realised that the Autobots probably weren’t expecting the human to be captured, and this fleshling had no experience in being interrogated. It was likely he would force the fleshling into shock if he continued like this; then, there wouldn’t be any information to get from this human. Soundwave felt annoyed at himself – he shouldn’t have moved so quickly as to have broken two major bones already. Despite being a master at keeping his emotions in check, the impending threat to Ravage – and Ravage’s own tack-sharp fear soaking through their mental link, silently pleading with him to _hurry_ – made him a bit hasty.

Soundwave checked in on the human through their mental link, and sure enough, their consciousness was just starting to sputter like an old diesel engine. The broken bones and mind-bending terror were taking their toll. He was unfamiliar with the specifics of human biology, and even if he could quickly research how to snap a human back into consciousness, time was of the essence: the Autobots were surely already on their way on a heroic rescue mission. Prime was always strangely fond of these little fleshlings, for whatever reason, and he hated when they were inevitably put in danger.

 What a shame he couldn’t afford to physically abuse the flesh creature anymore. He was about to go for the kneecap next: breaking it was supposed to be very painful.

 Soundwave’s processor flicked through everything he’d been able to pick up on human culture during his time here, gleaned from scanning radio and satellite communications. In particular, he was searching for something he could exploit about the human psyche, a mental or cultural tool to force out the information he needed.

It only took a moment before he realised what he could do.

“Human: is unable to continue with physical interrogation.” Soundwave reached over and clicked a small button on the back of the cobbled-together interrogation chair, enjoying the flinch he pulled from the human as his servo passed over them. The cables that bound their wrists and legs dropped while keeping the tight metal around their chest in place. Reflexively, the human raised their broken arm and cradled it with the other, looking up at him with utter confusion and just the slightest bit of hope, almost childlike in their naivete.

 That hope was smashed like an insect underfoot as he started undoing the button on their pants.

The human froze, despair creeping on their face and soaking through the mental link between them and the telepath. “What…?” They barely moved as Soundwave began tugging down their zipper, afraid to accidentally press against Soundwave’s servos but already as far back against the chair as they could be. He could feel the dawning understanding, coupled with horrified disbelief, rising in their mind.

 “This is your choice. State where Ravage is located, or this continues,” said Soundwave, as he started pulling their pants down. He sighed a little bit in annoyance as he saw that there was a second layer, their underwear, in the way.

“Wait – no – you can’t do this. Don’t do this. Don’t do this to me, please, I don’t know where Ravage is I swear to God please stop – “ The human stopped the waterfall of words suddenly with a shaky, sobbing intake of breath. They were panting harder than when their thighbone was broken, and their face was starting to flush under the embarrassment of being undressed by Soundwave.

The telepath hooked a finger under the waistband of their underwear and tugged sharply. The human yelped as Soundwave bumped his hand against their broken leg, and they unwittingly twitched their legs further apart. This made it easier for Soundwave to work their underwear down faster, and soon the human was completely naked from the waist down – they gasped a bit at the sudden cold on the exposed skin before calling out in desperation, “Soundwave!”

 The mech in question paused. Soundwave didn’t respond verbally to his designation but instead stared at the human, asking wordlessly for an explanation. The intensity of Soundwave’s gaze made the fleshling turn even redder, rosy spots starting to dapple their neck and upper chest, a complement to the almost fluorescent pink of their face.

 When the human failed to produce a coherent response, Soundwave continued where he left off. He traced one finger gently up and down the inside of the fleshling’s unbroken leg, ignoring the whine that came from them at this strangely affectionate touch, before coming to rest on what he assumed was analogous to a mech’s valve. It was definitely a sexual structure with how the human twitched and gasped when he pressed his finger on the entrance.

  _“Soundwave!”_ cried the human again. “Don’t do this, I don’t know where Ravage is, I swear to God, I promise you, Soundwave, I don’t _know_ , my part of the plan was the _electrobolt,_ you have to believe me, Soundwave, please, I’ve never done this before…”

He’d never heard his designation so many times in one sentence, and he decided he didn’t hate the sound of it. The telepath found himself wondering what it was the human hadn’t done before; interfacing, or being interrogated? Either way, it didn’t change anything. Soundwave didn’t stop what he was doing and instead started to press against the human’s entrance, getting a sob of terror and embarrassment from the bound fleshling.

 “Soundwave…” the human keened, their voice catching as they started to stretch against Soundwave’s finger. “Please _stop._ ”

 “State Ravage’s location,” replied Soundwave simply. He slowly rocked the tip of his finger in and out, letting the human adjust.

At this, Soundwave felt something new come across their mental link, something different from the claws of terror and anxiety. He felt superficial shades of terror and anxiety, as he expected, but now a deep humiliation belied everything, spreading under everything like the roots of a weed, worming into every crevice and choking out the roots of everything it touched.

The human breathed out shakily as Soundwave slowly worked even farther in, whispering “Oh, God…” They turned their head away from the telepath he continued to press in. For a moment, the only sounds between them were the hum of Soundwave’s processors and gentle hiccupping as the human sobbed.

 

\-----

 

 Starscream and Megatron were watching the security feed from Soundwave’s interrogation quietly, Megatron seated with his helm propped on the table, appearing almost bored, as his second-in-command stood at his side. At first, Starscream had cackled and cheered Soundwave on as he broke the human’s bones, but now he was just as silent as the gladiator beside him, listening uncomfortably to the pitiful whines echoing from the interrogation room.

 The air commander masked how unnerved he was with a scoff, suddenly breaking the thick silence. “There’s no way his spike is going to fit in the human. He’ll tear them in half,” he commented idly as he folded his arms. “I guess members of his _own kind_ aren’t good enough for him.”

It was a moment before Megatron responded. “He’s not there to interface, idiot,” he said, the _idiot_ coming out with less hostility than usual. “He can’t break anything more, as he could cause the human to pass out. Normally, that would be fine, but time isn’t exactly on our hands. This is a quick and dirty way to force it out.”

Starscream flicked his eyes from the grainy camera feed to his superior at his side, noting Megatron’s distracted tone. “Don’t tell me you’re off-put by this,” he accused. “We’ve been in a civil war for millennia, and this is a fraction of the suffering the entire war has caused. I’m sure you’ve seen most of this war’s horrors with your own eyes, and caused even more of it yourself.”

“Don’t chastise me, Starscream,” said Megatron sharply, giving his subordinate a sharp glare. “I have indeed caused most of that suffering in the name of the Decepticon cause, and I don’t regret a single bit of it. _This_ ,” he gestured to the screen, “is what happens when the Autobots put too much faith in the flesh creatures of this planet, when they throw them in the middle of a war between mechs, not organics. This is on the Autobots. I have no pompous morals to invoke; I will not command Soundwave to stop, as Prime would. This is simply a matter of retrieving one of our most valuable assets.”

 Starscream was blessedly quiet for a moment, absorbing what Megatron said. Finally, he smirked and said, “So you’re saying we’re not above the Autobots?”

Megatron huffed. “No. I’m saying that we are; we’re more honest, more truthful, more realistic than the Autobots. They use their arbitrary ideals to try and formulate a moral standpoint to hold over us, but their ideal world is just that: an idea. It doesn’t exist.

 “It takes more than goodness and purity to survive in this universe. The only moral we acknowledge is our right to survival, and somehow that cause has sparked a cruel war with the Autobots and their black-and-white, good-and-evil storybook morality. What we are doing here is only defending our own and retaliating for what has been done to us. We’re not so far apart from the Autobots, who I guarantee would at least think of doing the same if we captured one of theirs.” Megatron paused as the fleshling keened rather loudly, interrupting him. “To survive in this universe, it takes intelligence, brutality, and loyalty only to one’s self. I think we both hold those values, Starscream; especially that last part.”

 Starscream laughed coldly. “I’m glad you understand my ambitions so thoroughly, Lord Megatron.”

 A sudden loud noise like microphone feedback broke between them; the human was wailing, growing slowly in pitch and volume before abruptly stopping as Soundwave cut off the scream with a thumb on the human’s windpipe.

 Megatron watched for a moment. “I don’t think I could order him to stop, anyways,” he said. “I believe he’s doing this on purpose to avenge Ravage.”

 Starscream looked at Megatron. His first question was _this didn’t have to happen?_ before he chose another comment. “For Ravage? Vengeance? What is there to avenge about a rabid, bestial minibot?” he said, haughtily. “There has to be quicker ways of forcing information out, so why… _this?_ He’s going to get fleshling slime all over his servo,” he added, disgusted.

 Megatron smiled. “I don’t think you understand Soundwave’s connection to those cassettes of his. They’re more than just pets or drones at his disposal; they’re almost like his sparklings, rather. I hope that, after all these years working with Soundwave, you’ve noticed how distressed he gets when his symbiotes are damaged or put in danger.”

 “I wasn’t aware he even had emotions.”

 “Then you’re not paying attention. As usual.” Megatron paused before echoing his second-in-command’s earlier words: “Don’t tell me _you’re_ off-put by this, Starscream.”

 Starscream fumbled his words a bit before saying defensively, “I’m not opposed to it. I’m just not entirely _approving_ of it.”

 Megatron hummed in agreement. “It is a bit nauseating.”

 “But it’s necessary,” said Starscream without conviction.

 “Without a doubt.” Megatron decided not to comment on Starscream’s empty affirmation. “Let Soundwave do his job and exact whatever petty revenge he wants along the way. Ravage is vital to our operations, and I fear that Soundwave would become belligerent and dolorous if one of his symbiotes were to be lost, especially to the hand of a fleshling.”

 

 

 

 

Soundwave barely had the first joint of his finger in and the human was already sobbing openly. He didn’t blame them; Soundwave was huge compared to the human, and he was actually a little impressed that he’d managed to make it this far in. Through his telepathy, he could feel a faint image of Ravage’s location appearing whenever he pressed in harshly, but the human pushed down the impulse to speak as quickly as they could before the thought could travel to their mouth. It was frustrating, to say the least. He worked his finger in deeper, feeling as if he were trying to reach the human’s soul and tear out everything that made this fleshling think and breathe in order to find his symbiote.

 “State Ravage’s location,” he intoned again in response to another cry to _stop._ “You are ensuring this continues until you relinquish the information.”

 “I – I can’t –” stuttered the human thickly through tears. They gasped aloud as Soundwave pushed in farther in response to this broken-off denial, stretching their entrance wide. Their legs hiked up higher, and he could see one of their feet twitch reflexively. “You’re gonna tear – Soundwave – oh my God…”

 At this, Soundwave began to pull out a little, and the human let out a shaky breath, almost panting in relief as the intense burning lessened. Then, the telepath began to rock his finger back and forth, fucking the human roughly. The human squealed and shoved themselves into the back of the chair, trying to get away from the immense pressure forcing itself inside them. Closing their legs made it hurt more, but opening wider made it easier for Soundwave to fuck them harshly; Soundwave made this decision for them by gently grabbing their unbroken leg and pulling it to the side, keeping them open. The human’s gaze started to unfocus due to not just the tight, sharp pain with every thrust of Soundwave’s single finger, but also as they tried fruitlessly to disassociate from the situation. Optimus Prime, by allowing the human to assist with this operation, had wordlessly asked for their loyalty, and they proudly gave it without a second thought. But this loyalty was crumbling as quickly as dried mud in response to the flood of terror, shame, and pain Soundwave inflicted.

 Soundwave reached deeper into their mind, as far as he could through the hazy organic thoughts, and began to see not only echoes of coherent thought (which were almost completely gone by now), but also bright images charged with emotion. Every time Ravage’s location came up, they bit down and thought, instead, of the faith in Prime’s optics as he explained the human’s role in the plan; how hard Wheeljack had worked to get their plans for the electrobolt working on Decepticon armour; how Prowl included them in the debriefing for this mission, how honoured and important they felt to be on the _good guys’ side_ in an interstellar war. They presented their plan of action while standing on a massive round table full of even bigger mechs, every single colossal optic fixed on them, trusting their word and seeing the human not as a ward to protect, but as an equal. They felt like a star.

But tunnel vision narrowed everything down to this moment: a moment drowning in fear and anxiety and shame and horrible pain as their legs, one broken, were spread apart and they were fucked like a ragdoll with just one finger. What would Prime think? What would any of them think? They shivered, mortified, as they imagined the Autobots bursting in on a rescue mission only to see the human being fucked roughly on Soundwave’s finger as they flushed red and moaned and writhed on it.

 The human found themself praying that the Autobots would never come back for them so no one would never find out what happened in this godforsaken room.

 Suddenly, the human’s thoughts were knocked sideways as Soundwave picked up the pace impatiently, thrusting just a little bit deeper and quicker, making the human see stars.

“ _Soundwave.”_ A communication from Megatron echoed in the telepath’s processor.

_“Yes, Megatron?”_

_“Autobots confirmed, sixteen-point-two kilometers from headquarters.”_

_“Approximate time until Autobot arrival?”_

_“Roughly ten minutes. Hurry up.”_

The human screamed again in fear, anger, pain, hurt. It interrupted Soundwave’s comm, the sound of it horrifying and ear-splitting, a banshee wail echoed from the world of the dead. It was as pitiful and morose as anything Soundwave had ever heard, but nothing could match the pulses of anger and anxiety that continued to radiate from Ravage miles away, strong enough that he felt it in his spark, seeming to vibrate his plating with the strength of it.

However, Soundwave actually slowed in response to the human’s cry of despair: it was time for another tactic. He reached his other hand up to the human’s face and slowly brushed his fingertips across their jawline in a strangely soothing gesture. Despite their immense fear of Soundwave, the human found themself leaning into the touch, relieved at the slowed pace and responding to even the slightest indication of affection. Whatever pleasant touch the human felt, their psyche was so bruised and battered that they would accept it as if it were genuine.

His earlier guess was correct: the human wasn’t military trained at all, let alone a veteran of interrogation. They were much more receptive to emotional manipulation than any bullet-battered soldier would be.

Soundwave leaned his faceplate in just a bit. “Relinquish Ravage’s location, and this will stop.” The telepath nudged the human’s chin upwards, getting their eyes to focus on his crimson visor. “This will stop soon,” he intoned again gently, quietly.

The human choked a bit on a sob. Still shaking but somehow gathering their nerve, they looked Soundwave in the optics and said, “Several miles southwest of the Ark, under the heart of the mountain designated Picacho.”

Soundwave quietly felt the human’s emotional landscape and determined that this was not a lie; but it was a half-truth, missing the most important part.

“Excellent,” he praised, brushing back a bit of their hair plastered to their face, and the human almost seemed to glow a bit under the praise. “How is access achieved?”

The human’s hope was again crushed as despair flooded them. Apparently, they thought they could get away with such an obvious omission, trying to buy the Autobots time by sending the Decepticons on a fruitless mission while stopping the horror of the interrogation. It was a little childish to think that, after generations of war, the human thought Soundwave didn’t know what questions to ask.

Soundwave bit back his annoyance and stroked their hair with the hand not wedged inside them. The human shivered at the touch and was now unabashedly leaning into Soundwave’s finger, trying to block out everything that was happening around them.

Soundwave kept pushing, though. “You are almost finished, and you have done well. How is access achieved?” he repeated.

The human, as he expected, remained silent. He was just about to continue when Megatron suddenly came on over his comm link: _“Soundwave.”_

_“Yes, Lord Megatron.”_

_“Quickly. The Autobots are near. We must send a strike force out to Ravage as soon as possible to distract them and disperse them from our headquarters.”_

_“Understood, Lord Megatron.”_ Soundwave inwardly cursed this human and their Autobot-like sense of loyalty.

He leaned in even closer, up to the human’s ear. “Relax,” he intoned very quietly, making the human shiver with their sudden close proximity and the vibrations of his deep synthesizer. “It hurts more when you tighten up.”

Soundwave quickly pushed his finger all the way into the human, ripping a hoarse scream out of them as Soundwave felt his finger hit a flesh barrier, presumably taking up all the human had to offer. He started pumping his finger in them quickly, making the human’s squeals increase in pitch until they were barely mouse-like squeaks and keens, their throat constricted so that they barely had any air to make noise. As he upped the ante on fucking the human, he plunged his telepathic link deep into their mind, throwing off any cover of being covert about his mind reading and going straight for the kill. He ransacked the human’s memories, skimming through disconnected images as carelessly as if reading a newspaper, making sure the human felt every touch of his telepathy all over their thoughts and memories.

He saw with the human’s own eyes a first love, a first kiss, childhood friends that faded as they grew apart, whole lives of beloved pets, first days of school: an entire unique life from the most mundane weekday morning to the most extraordinary days, ones with Autobots and a feeling of being caught up in a fable, on the frontlines of the war between good and evil. Soundwave tore each image from the human with startling accuracy, finally starting to decode where every emotion and memory lied from within the chaos of organic brain function, seeing where neural impulse gave rise to a human soul. He wrapped his hands around that soul and tainted it, painting its silveriness with a black tarnish, and made sure the human felt every bit of that corruption as he raped the human inside and out, made sure they stayed out of a war that was far, far bigger than their tiny, expendable, organic body.

The human’s eyes opened wide as they were assaulted from not just one, but two pathways, and they felt Soundwave bring up their worst embarrassments and happiest moments, tossing them all aside like worthless trash.

But through the thick haze of complete despair, Soundwave could feel pleasure mounting in the human, and he realised they were close to climaxing. When the human looked at him with a mortified, despairing look, they both knew what was coming, and Soundwave was grateful for the advantage the human had given him.

“This is what you wanted this whole time, isn’t it?” said Soundwave mockingly. He crooked his finger upwards to rub against a sensitive spot within the human, pulling a salacious gasp out of them despite their horror. “You’re almost there.”

“Sound _wave_ … stop, please, I don’t want to, I don’t want this, it hurts –”

“More lies.” Soundwave pushed his finger up against that spot again, and the human moaned openly.

“No, no, no, no, no – Soundwave – I can’t –” they hissed, and Soundwave could feel the human’s entrance squeezing around his finger. “I can’t stop it Soundwave please I’m so close stop stop stop! _Stop!!”_

Soundwave picked up the pace, aiming for that cluster of nerves over and over again, paying no mind to the fleshling’s cries for him to stop. Soon, the human came powerfully on his finger with a loud, shaking whine, his name almost intelligible on their tongue as they fell over the edge into a strong, forced climax.

Soundwave slowed down his pace as he felt the pain from hypersensitivity start to envelop their mind. He kept his telepathic digits entrenched deep into the human’s mind, making them feel as vulnerable and uncomfortable as possible as he awaited the information he needed.

He pulled his finger out of the human with a lewd, wet _pop_ , and the human grimaced at the sudden emptiness within them. Soundwave leaned back and made sure the human felt his optics roam over them, from their overstretched entrance to the drops of self-lubrication still leaking from them. Coupled with the effects of their shameful climax, the humiliation soaked the human in a wave, and they began to shiver and flush under Soundwave’s gaze. He tilted his head, asking wordlessly for the information he needed from the broken, abused human.

The human averted their eyes to somewhere on the ground, unable to look at Soundwave as they caught their breath. Almost inaudibly, they mumbled, “On the west-facing side of the mountain, there’s a hidden door. Powerglide, Hound, and Tracks are guarding it. The keypad to the door is under a false cover of rock. The code is 1025. My birthday.”

 Soundwave reached down and, with his clean servo, tilted their chin up to face him. “Soundwave: enjoyed this interrogation. Much was learned about human biology and psyche.” He grabbed the hem of the human’s shirt and cleaned off his bloodied finger, using their shirt like an old washrag. “With your aspirations of heroism, you have made yourself a target. Do not allow me or Ravage to see you ever again, and cease all involvement with the Autobots. Thank you for cooperating.”

With that, Soundwave turned sharply and left the room. He didn’t even bother to release the bonds still keeping the human tied to the chair, preferring to leave them with the humiliation of being half-naked in a puddle of their own fluids. He’d get Skywarp to drop them off somewhere away from base later, but for now, his goal was to finish undoing the human’s grave error by imprisoning Ravage.

He reopened his comm link to Megatron and sent the coordinates of Ravage’s location to the Decepticon leader. _“Lord Megatron. I have extracted Ravage’s location: at the heart of a mountain some miles from Autobot headquarters. I have received access instructions from the human.”_

_“Acknowledged. Skywarp and Thundercracker are prepared and waiting to disembark. The Autobots are continuing their advance and do not know of our interrogation success, but they’ll figure it out once they see where you’re heading.”_

_“Understood. Will Starscream be joining his trinemates?”_

 Megatron paused, very briefly. _“No. He will be staying.”_

_“Understood. I will return with Ravage soon.”_

Soundwave felt for Ravage’s distant sparkbeat and felt it thrumming quicker than before, tense aggression and obstinance now a thick mask over ripples of anxiety. The Autobots must have known that Soundwave would move quickly to rescue his symbiote and were already starting the interrogation, searching for any information they could glean from his cassette’s processor. The telepath’s anger spiked at the thought of Ravage’s paws welded to the cold, rocky ground as Wheeljack prodded her firewalls around her central processor: intrusion, invasion. The glitchy engineer was next on his list, and he would make sure to tell Skywarp and Thundercracker to save Wheeljack for him.

The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him – trading one abuse to prevent another – but the human was only some fleshling: expendable. In this war, their wellbeing was utterly meaningless. Ravage was different in all respects.

Soundwave entered the room where the two Seekers were waiting for him. Neither commented on the smell of blood and earthly, organic musk faint on his hands, both of them sharing a glance as they made their assumptions about what happened in that interrogation room. Soundwave made no comment, and instead wordlessly made a gesture for them to transform. Picking up on his barely-concealed, roiling anger, they transformed and kickstarted their engines with a powerful roar that echoed Soundwave’s own intensity. Soundwave jumped and transformed in mid-air, landing in Thundercracker’s cockpit. Immediately, they set out for Ravage’s coordinates, with Soundwave’s focus returning completely to Ravage and not on the blood of the soul he just crushed still wet on his servo. He couldn’t afford to care about it.

This layer of blood wasn’t the first, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.


End file.
